Monthly Archives: February 2012

There’s something about the ‘end’ of something that drives me. That drives a lot of people.

The end of the month.

The end of the year.

The end of this life.

This is the basis that resolutions are founded on. Goals. Ambitions. Deadlines are my driving force. The thing that pulls at my heartstrings. Procrastination fits in there somewhere, but that’s for another day. But it’s related.

I was doing some reading today. I was “stuck in a blog” as my husband and I like to joke. When suddenly I was inspired. I am often inspired by others’ blogs and projects, but this was long-term inspiration. Project 365 has been a big movement in the arts community, and I only first heard of it when my brother took a stab at it last year. He accomplished Project 100. An admirable feat, considering the number of jobs he has and his lack of free time. I loved the idea, and considered my own photo journal… but when I thought about it, I really don’t love photography enough to devote an entire year to growing in it. That’s not to say that I don’t want to learn more or that someday I may have a deeper passion for it, but right now I am very comfortable in my amateur state.

However…

I read today about others who are taking on 365 day challenges outside of photography. I don’t know why I haven’t thought of this before.

So… deadlines…

It’s silly to start something new on, say, the 23rd of February. So… I’m going to spend the next 6 days focusing my energy on getting my house back in order after the crazy month I’ve had. But I am super excited for March 1st.

Starting March 1st I am going to post a project a day. Now, ‘project’ is a loose term here. My goal is to find a way to channel some creative energy every day. Some days that may be an entire painting finished and hung on the wall, and other days that may just be a napkin doodle from lunch. Either way, I want to find a way to have some “me” time every day, doing the things I love.

My little Bubbie is 18 months old, and he is absolutely the light of my life. I could go on and on about how wonderful he is, but what mother couldn’t brag about her kid? Instead, I wanted to share a couple of things I’ve observed lately…

First of all, my son might just be the most generous, thoughtful person I know. And he has no idea what it means to be those things. I think that’s what makes it so beautiful. I recently started watching a friend’s 6 month old baby in the mornings. He is so different from my boy. He’s tiny and sleepy and he cries… a lot. After all, he’s just a baby. Peyton grew up at some point, though I can’t pinpoint when it happened. Either way, when the baby cries, Peyton becomes very seriously concerned. He gets little worry lines in his forehead and begins looking around frantically. He’s not looking for the baby, though. He’s looking for something to console him with. Sometimes it is a toy, sometimes it is a binky, and sometimes he runs to the kitchen and tugs on the refrigerator door, as if to tell me “he’s hungry, Mom!!” How does he know?!?! And why does he even care? It amazes me that he can be so concerned for another person when he’s so small himself.

The other thing that has been fascinating to me lately is the way he shares things. At dinner time, when it’s something that he could really take or leave, he eats what he wants and then he’s done. But when it is something he really loves, he wants to share it. His goldfish are an excellent example. He will have a snack cup full of goldfishes, and he eats one, then offers one to me, and then one to his dad. Cookies, chocolate, whatever it is… if it’s delicious, he wants to share. I think it is so neat that he has no concept of where it came from, first of all, and whether or not there is more… but even more so, that he is happy to share his favorite things. As adults, I think we tend to “hoard” our favorite things, and the less of something we have, the stingier we are.

I recently heard one of the djs on KLOVE telling a story about how her son asked her one day if he could give his granola bar to the man that was asking for money at the stoplight they were sitting at. She was heartbroken that not only had she not wanted to do the same, but she wasn’t sure she was okay with him doing it. There is so much danger associated with strangers, but are we creating that danger for ourselves? Are they really that scary? Can’t we be doing more to help those in need and show them God’s love, the way a child would?

Some people love it, some people hate it, a lot of people get engaged on this day, and a lot of people spend the day mourning the loss of love. I suppose there’s something to be said for the amount of emotion it evokes, but nevertheless, I see the “holiday” as a bit ridiculous.

A couple days ago, my boys and I were driving home and I was checking out my Facebook news feed. My brother Keith had posted a link to an article his friend Aarik had written entitled Love in the Eyes of Art. I loved his take on the subject.

The way Aarik sees it, artists (namely song writers) have three main “compartments” of love: love is a fairytale, love is a battlefield, or love is all futility or frivolity. Three extremes. And I agree. I related so strongly to his article because I’ve been in the midst of this dilemma myself.

Music, movies, books, and television shows will all have us believe that there is only one way to be in love, and that is dramatically. On the one hand there is Cinderella and her prince, who sweeps her off her feet, saves her life, and they live happily ever after. And on the other hand there’s your typical Hollywood romantic comedy that tells you that first you will fall in love, then he will hurt you, and then he will do something incredible to win you back and you’ll live happily ever after. Of course there are also the neigh-sayers who tell you that there is no such thing as love and they live the life of Barney Stinson (How I Met Your Mother) or a crazy cat lady. But I’m more concerned with the first two.

I first started to struggle with the notion of “my love isn’t good enough” when I heard the song ‘Bold as Love’ by John Mayer on his live CD ‘Where the Light Is.’ At the end of the song he breaks into somewhat of a rant, and the piece that sticks with me is where he says “And I don’t mean like, Roman candle, fireworks, Hollywood hot pink love. I mean, like, “I got your back”-love.” (see the entire speech referenced below**).

I’m going to be the first person to tell you that the love in my house isn’t pretty. It doesn’t wear make-up, and most days it doesn’t even change out of pajamas. Our love has sticky floors and streaky windows. It has dirty dishes and yelling matches. It makes snarky comments and leaves dirty socks on the floor. Over and over again. But you know what? It is the most comforting thing I have ever known, and the best thing I have ever been a part of.

Now, I’m not saying we’re in the clear — that we’re never going to be at risk for that love ending — but I am saying this: I realize that love takes work. A successful relationship takes work. And what a successful relationship looks like to us may be completely different from what it looks like to someone else. What I’m trying to tell you is this: PLEASE don’t let the Reese Witherspoon movies and Tim McGraw music of this world influence the way you feel about love. Embrace what you have. And share it.

** So check it out right, I’ve tried every approach to living. I’ve tried it all. I haven’t tried every thing, but I’ve tried every approach. Sometimes you have to try everything to get the approach the same, but whatever. I’ve tried it all. I’ve bought a buncha stuff. I went “ehh, I don’t like that.” I kinda came in and out of that a coupla times.

I thought I would shut myself off. I thought maybe that’s cool. Maybe that’s what you have to do to become a genius is you have to be mad. So if you can get mad before the word genius, then maybe you can make genius appear. Right? That doesn’t work either.

And I’m in a good place. I’ve paced myself pretty well. I’m 30, I’ve seen some cool stuff. I made a lot of stuff happen for myself. I made a lot of stuff happen for myself. That’s a really cool sentence when you’re in your 20s, right? “I made it happen for myself.” But all that means is that I’ve just somehow or another found a way to synthesize love. Or synthesize soothing. You can’t get that, and what I’m saying is I’ve messed with all the approaches except for one, and it’s gonna sound really corny, but that’s just love. That’s just love.

I’ve done everything in my life that I’ve wanted to do except just give and feel love for my living. And I don’t mean like, uh, Roman candle, fireworks, Hollywood hot pink love. I mean, like, “I got your back”-love. I don’t need to hear “I love ya.” You guys love me. I love you. We got that down. But some of the people who would tell you they love ya were the last people to just have your back. So I’m gonna experiment with this love thing. Giving love. Feeling love. I know it’s corny but it’s the last thing I’ve got to check out before I check out.